Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“That sounds badass when you put it like that.” He steps back and pats his cock. “Good job, mate. Good job.”
I stare at him openmouthed as he walks through to my room. “Did you seriously just pat your cock and tell it, ‘Good job’?”
“Hey!” He steps out, shirtless. “Everyone will hug you and tell you well done. My cock needs some recognition for his part in it, too.”
“Seriously? Next you’ll be rubbing your balls to soothe the sperm that didn’t make it out.” I grab some jeans and a shirt.
“Should you be wearing jeans? Won’t the button cut into your stomach?”
I smack him with the pants before I hear his raucous laughter. “If you’re going to piss me off for the next eight months with stupid comments like that, I’m going to go all hormonal on your ass, Tyler Stone!”
He grabs me and hugs me tight. “I can’t help it, baby girl. You look so incredulous every time. You should have seen your face.”
I shove him away. “Don’t forget. This whole thing is your fault. I get to hormone your ass anyway. Giving me a reason will just make it worse.”
He acts shocked. “My fault? For all Seattle knows, you trapped me. I’m quite the catch.”
I hit him with my shirt this time. “I’ll catch your balls with my father’s fishing pole if you keep going!”
He laughs loudly, an infectious laugh that makes me giggle along with him, and before I can pull my shirt over my head, he pushes me back on the bed and leans over me. His dark hair flops in front of his forehead, and his dimples show with his ever-growing smile.
“For the record,” he says, grabbing my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist, “I quite like being trapped by you.”
“I did not trap you!” I flick his ear.
“I know. It’s not a trap if you come willingly.” He grazes his teeth over my bottom lip.
“Coming willingly is the issue here.”
“I see no issue. We had incredible sex, my magic, beastly cock pulled some strings, and now you’re stuck with me. It could be worse.”
“Worse than being stuck with an egotistical, cocky, British asshole?”
“Yep.” He kisses my nose. “You could be stuck with you.”
“Fuck you!” I laugh.
“You will later.” He winks and gets up.
I pull my shirt over my head and watch as he gets changed. Into clothes from my drawer. I lick my lips, the tang of my orange juice coming off them. His muscles flex as he pulls a shirt on, and I swallow.
I guess I should get used to sharing drawer space.
“What time will you be done with your agent?”
I drag my gaze away from his lovely butt and look at him. “I won’t be long in there. Why?”
“Because we need to talk to my sister.”
“Why? What’s the rush?”
He grabs my hands and pulls me up. I’m not going to like this. He has that don’t-you-fucking-dare-argue glint in his eyes.
“Tyler. Spit it out.”
“Put your hackles down, bitch,” he murmurs. “She needs to know she’s moving into your place and you’re moving into mine.”
Apparently, drawer space isn’t all I should be getting used to.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re pregnant. My baby. You’re living with me.”
“Correct, correct, and we’re coming back to this.”
“No, we’re not. I told you I’d be there every day and I mean it. That means I’ll be holding your hair when you’re sick and carrying you to bed when you pass out on the sofa because you’re tired. It means I’ll rub your feet when they’re sore and look after you all the time.”
“I’m pregnant, not sick.” I put my finger over his mouth. “And you need to lay off the sugar, because if you carry on being so fucking sweet, I might actually get sick.”
“You’re moving in with me, Liv. Just like I wouldn’t give up on you, I’m not giving up on this.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I brush mascara over my lashes and pull my hair into a ponytail. “And just like I wouldn’t stop fighting you on that, I won’t stop fighting you on this.” I meet his eyes through the mirror. “Twenty-four hours ago, my world was completely fucking rocked. Right now, I’m still hanging between a good rocking and a bad rocking. Let me come to terms with that before you throw another big change at me, okay? Please.”
He lays his hands on my hips and kisses the back of my neck. “One week. You have one week to accept it because you’re moving after Day’s hen party.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“But that’s my offer, and it’s the best you’re going to get.” He grabs his keys from the dresser and kisses me once more. “Call me when you’re done with Sheila.”
“Offer? That isn’t a damn offer! That’s a fucking demand!” The door opens. “Tyler!”
The door shuts.
I scream and throw my hairbrush out the door. Sweet or demanding, they both piss me off.